


Behind Closed Doors

by aimeejessica



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26299660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimeejessica/pseuds/aimeejessica
Summary: Sister Bernadette has her new specs, and all the nurses fuss over her. She feels like she belongs, if only for a moment before Sister Monica Joan reminds her of her worship.Trixie see's the disappointment when Sister Bernadette is made to resign to prayer. A thought forms in her mind, and during an evening spent with Nurse Lee and Nurse Miller, she starts to hatch a plan.
Comments: 31
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

Sister Bernadette had busied herself, buttering a piece of toast as a quick breakfast before she was to prepare herself for the day ahead. The clicking of heels behind her, bringing her attention to the fact she was now, not alone.

“Oh, Lord! You did it. You got new specs!” the younger, blonde nurse exclaimed excitedly, pulling up a chair with to join the small nun.

Sister Bernadette smiled brightly, “My prescription had to be revised, so it did seem justified,” she told her colleagues, a slight hint of vanity coursing through her. She inwardly cursed her sin.

“The frames really do suit you,” agreed Cynthia, the brunette nurse that had joined them. “They’re much lighter than your old pair.”

“Oh, it’s not the colour. It’s absolutely the upsweep. Opens the peepers winder than three coats of mascara,” continued the blonde. Another two nurses enter the kitchen, quickly having their attention brought to the nun’s slight change in appearance. “Do come look at Sister Bernadette’s glasses! They could only be improved by a diamante on the arms!”

Another wave of vanity flushed through her, flushing her cheeks a darker pink than what was usual. She smiled nervously at the room of _normal_ women who now sat around the table, ‘ _What I would give for a day where I could fit in with my peers_ ’ she thought to herself.

“I don’t think you can get diamante on the National Health,” Sister Bernadette explained, knowing full well if she had chosen a more elaborate frame, it would be frowned upon by the order. She had taken a vow of poverty, even in these _classy_ spectacles, she felt that she was drawing more attention to herself than a nun should.

“Are they on the National Health?” the tallest of all the colleagues asked, to which she replied with a smile and a nod. “Oh go on, indulge me,”

Sister Bernadette felt something stir inside her, something she had not felt for quite some time. Happily obliging her fellow midwife, she removed her glasses and handed them over.

“What do you think?” the tall woman asked, modeling the nun’s new frames. The room felt light and happy as a chorus of giggles filled the room. “I take it the upswept from and I are not soul mates?”

Sister Bernadette felt positively delighted to be included in a gathering that felt like it should be foreign to her. She received her spectacles back, as the room continued to be filled with laughter until guilt swallowed her.

“Sister,” came the voice of one of the older nuns from behind her, the woman having seemingly crept up silently on this perfect moment. Sister Bernadette’s face fell, and her colleagues noticed it. “It is time to partake with the privilege of silence.”

She knew she had to leave, it was her duty to her vows – to God. Silently excusing herself from the kitchen table, toast untouched, she departed the room, obediently and silently.

With the absence of Sister Bernadette, the nurses glanced around each other, each trying to figure out what had just happened. “Did I sense reluctance?” asked the blonde.

“Trixie!” exclaimed Jenny, pouring herself a cup of tea.

“I’m sure you all felt that change in mood,” Trixie tried to justify. “It’s as if she didn’t want to leave,”

The table of nurses nodded in silent agreement at the blonde’s statement, although none of them would ever admit it out loud – least of all, in a convent. They were the nun’s guests, after all. They may all provide the same service and care to the growing population of Poplar, but ultimately, living in a home of God, meant having to be respectful of his disciples.

* * *

Sometime in the late evening, Trixie and Cynthia had taken residence in Jenny’s room, each nursing a glass of babycham. Trixie lounged on her stomach on the floor, cigarette perched between her fingertips and flicking through the latest fashion magazine.

Cynthia watched her friend from her spot at the end of Jenny’s bed, peeping over her shoulder on occasion to get a quick glimpse of the newest trends. She was never one for over the top elegance like the blonde woman, however she didn’t want to seem outdated.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the empty halls of Nonnatus; the nuns were headed to the chapel for Compline. Jenny took note of this and quietly rose from her bed to push the door shut, not wanting to disrupt the evening prayer and silence that would soon follow.

Trixie let out a quiet giggle, “What would they think of us? Smoking and indulging ourselves in delicious beverages such as this?” she raised her glass, as if she was toasting to rebellion against faith and freedom of not being tied down to it.

Cynthia and Jenny cast each other a quick look, noting the inappropriateness of their current evening activities. “We should probably call it a night before they finish their worship and catch us,” Cynthia tried reasoning. Jenny nodded in agreement.

“You know,” Trixie started, as she noticed Cynthia stand to depart Jenny’s room. “I’ve been thinking about what happened this morning,”

This piqued the two nurse’s interest. “Whatever do you mean?” questioned Jenny, returning to the cooling spot on her bed.

Trixie closed her magazine, rolled over and sat up, tucking her legs off to her side. “About Sister Bernadette,” she took the last drag of her cigarette, extinguishing the butt in the ash tray that she had brought with her. “She looked absolutely radiant this morning,” she furrowed her brow. “That is, until Sister Monica Joan came to fetch her,”

Her friends looked at each other again, a heaviness set across their features. “Trixie,” Cynthia started, her tone low and warning.

“Don’t try to justify it, I know you all saw it, and I know you felt how the mood fell when Sister Monica Joan entered,”

Cynthia reached her hand to her blonde friend, placing it on her shoulder. “Yes, but these are her affairs and we have no right speculating or meddling with things that don’t concern us,”

Jenny nodded in agreement, but Trixie wasn’t one to back down. “She looked miserable!” her tone was loud and pleading, hoping her colleagues would see and understand what she saw.

“Trixie, you know she has taken vows,” Jenny tried rationalizing.

“She’s not much older than us!” the blonde stood, withdrawing another cigarette from the case in her robe, lighting it and taking a long drag. “How could someone so young resign herself to a life of worship, when she hasn’t experienced life itself?”

“You can’t possibly know that,” and Jenny agreed with the statement.

“Most of her adolescence would have been spent disrupted by the war,” she took another drag, letting it linger in her lungs for a moment before exhaling. “And from then, she would have taken upon the religious life,”

* * *

Sister Bernadette had struggled with her evening prayer, as her memory of the morning replayed over in her mind. She had felt visible, sitting among the nurses, not having to hide away in prayer or worship. But that was the life she had chosen, the life she had felt called to, so as she walked back from Chapel to her chambers she silently reminded herself of her commitment to God.

_“How could someone so young resign herself to a life of worship, when she hasn’t experienced life itself?”_

The familiar voice of the blonde nurse was just audible in the quiet convent, and Sister Bernadette couldn’t help but linger near Jenny’s door to listen in to the conversation the women were having. She was sure it was about herself.

_“You can’t possibly know that,”_ she heard Cynthia say, and the nun wondered how Jenny was reacting to this. How she wished she could just waltz in and set the nurses straight, to scold them for drinking, for disturbing the great silence that had fallen over Nonnatus House, but a part of her wished she could join their gossip, to enjoy even just a puff of one of Trixie’s cigarettes, to feel accepted amongst her generation.

_“Most of her adolescence would have been spent disrupted by the war, and from then, she would have taken upon the religious life,”_

Sister Bernadette sighed heavily, pulling herself away from the door. Trixie was right, she had spent her adolescence in the midst of the Second World War, but the loss of her family is what had turned her to the religious life. She had lost everything, and with nothing, she felt God call to her, drawing her to a life of safety and security with a family she had chosen for herself.

Clutching at the wooden cross around her neck, she retired to her chambers.

* * *

“I want to ask her something,” Trixie stated plainly. “What if we invited her to join us one night, like a girls night,”

Jenny frowned at her friend, “You know she can’t do that, Trixie. She is a nun, she has vows, she has her faith, she has routine. Lord knows if she’d forgive herself for indulging in something as menial as gossip with the nurses,”

Trixie was determined, “Well, there’s no harm in asking, is there Jenny Lee?” she cast a quick smile at her friends.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t the first time that, in the evening before Compline, Sister Bernadette had stood in front of the small mirror attached to her wardrobe, wimple and cap removed. She shouldn’t be so vain as to stare at herself, to admire her reflection. The only use for the mirror was to ensure her wimple was attached correctly, and no more.

Her hair was pulled back off her face, tied in a tight bun so that not stray strands would poke out under her cap. She considered untying her hair, but with Compline near, she knew she would have to don her cap, and exchange her wimple for her prayer veil which lay across her bed.

A light knock echoed through her room, dragging the young nun out of her thoughts. She felt a moment of terror course through her, knowing that she had committed the sin of vanity, and that it would be obvious, especially if it were one of her sister’s knocking. Sister Bernadette made her best attempt at putting her cap on, but a trained eye would have known it would have been done in a hurry.

“Sister?” came the familiar voice of Nurse Franklin. “May I enter?”

Sister Bernadette breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, Nurse Franklin,”

As Trixie entered the nun’s chamber, she noticed how bare the room was. She knew that nun’s weren’t allowed possessions, but this? She hated how empty the room was, the clicks of her heels echoing. “I understand you’re due in the chapel soon, but I wanted to pose a question to you,”

Sister Bernadette made sure to busy herself, tidying her cap and affixing her prayer veil in an attempt to make herself look composed. “And what is it that you would like to ask?”

The blonde woman noticed that the lighthearted soul she had caught glimpses of the other day had since vanished and been replaced with the usual quiet and submissive nun. Butterflies started to hatch in her stomach and suddenly she was second guessing ever asking Sister Bernadette to join her and the nurses one evening. Perhaps her judgment had been clouded by the amount of babycham she had consumed.

Trixie cleared her throat, summoning the courage she had, had the previous night. “Well, we were wondering if –“

The nurse wasn’t able to finish as the sound of a hand bell echoed through the empty corridors of Nonnatus house. Sister Bernadette straightened herself, smoothing her hands over her habit. “I’m sorry, Nurse Franklin, you will have to ask me at a later time, I must head to the chapel.”

* * *

The next morning, the nurse’s had set the table for breakfast, awaiting the nun’s to finish their morning prayers so they could start their day.

Jenny had brought the pot of tea out from the kitchen, setting it in the middle of the table. Cynthia had already taken her seat, positioning herself next to Trixie, who looked absolutely defeated.

“Are you alright, Trixie?” Cynthia asked her friend, noticing her usual upbeat self was absent.

“I chickened,” she sighed as Jenny pulled up a seat on the other side of the blonde. “I went to Sister Bernadette yesterday evening, but I lost my bravado,”

“Are you sure you really want to ask a _nun_ to join us one evening? I’m positive she will decline,” Jenny tried to reason, setting a napkin across her lap.

With that being said, the sounds of footsteps alerted the trio to the arrival of the nun’s from their morning routine. Trixie held back her reply, knowing that if she mentioned her plans in front of the older nun’s, she would surely be scolded; Especially by Sister Evangelina.

“Good morning, ladies,” Sister Julienne greeted, as she and her Sister’s took their places around the table. “Thank you for laying out breakfast. Now, shall we say grace?”

Trixie made eye contact with the youngest nun as she took her seat across from the blonde, quickly bowing her head to avoid further awkwardness from only hours earlier. Tucking into their meals, the nurse’s made quiet conversation amongst themselves until the telephone disturbed the peace.

Sister Bernadette and Trixie, both alerted by the rings, began to push their chairs back in order to escape the dining table. “With Chummy out, I’m second on call,” the nun had said. “Resume your breakfast, I will get this.” And with that, Trixie sat back down, watching as the little nun departed.

Only moments later did Sister Bernadette reenter the room, “Excuse me, Nurse Lee, I require your assistance. Mrs. Murphy has gone into labour, however, baby is breach,”

“Of course,” Jenny told her, politely excusing herself from the table.

* * *

Cycling down the streets of Poplar was something Jenny was still something to get used to. The cobbles underfoot were old and worn, occasionally breaking off and flicking stones up on her shins as her tires passed over them. She was also aware of how easy it was to lose balance if she were to misjudge the dips in the street and silently wondered how on earth the nun’s managed to cycle along the roads wearing their habits.

The pair turned down a quiet alley, taking a short cut to the in labour Mrs. Murphy. “Forgive me, Nurse Lee,” the soft, accented voice of Sister Bernadette pulling Jenny out of her thoughts.

“Is everything alright, Sister?” Jenny passed a quick glance to the nun, returning her eyes quickly to the road so she would not come off her bicycle.

“You have made friends with Nurse Franklin in the year since you have joined Nonnatus House,” Jenny wasn’t sure if this was a question or a statement, so she nodded a quick response, unsure if the nun was even looking in her direction. Sister Bernadette continued, “She came to me last night, before Compline wanting to ask me something, but she was interrupted. I was wondering if you knew what it was she was going to ask,”

Jenny sensed something in her voice; was she pleading to get information? The pair scanned the line of buildings as they began to approach their destination, knowing they were close with the yells of a labouring mother coming to ear. “Let us deliver this baby first,” Jenny told her, dismounting her bicycle and rushing to retrieve her bag.

“Of course,”

 _Disappointment._ Jenny definitely heard it.

* * *

Mrs. Murphy was only in labour for an hour, the assistance of the midwives ensuring she safety brought a healthy little boy into the world. Jenny and Sister Bernadette had stayed with the new mother, ensuring the woman was settled and her husband informed of the new arrival.

“I will return tomorrow, to check on you and baby,” Sister Bernadette had ensured her, as she and her colleague departed.

“Thank you, Sister,” Mrs. Murphy told her as they opened the front door. “And thank you, nurse.”

Replacing their bags on the bicycle’s, they mounted and prepared to return to Nonnatus House. The nun and the nurse smiled at each other, silently communicating between themselves of a job well done.

The nurse had noticed in the hours since they had left the breakfast table together, Sister Bernadette had become lighter, less burdened. If Trixie wasn’t going to ask the nun to join them, then Jenny was.

“Sister,” Jenny suddenly felt nervous, the same way Trixie had felt the night before. She was sure she was going to go to hell for what she was about to say next. “Nurse Franklin wanted to ask if you’d like to join us one evening.”

Sister Bernadette smiled at the nurse, silently saying a prayer to the Almighty for forgiveness for what she was about to reply. “That would be lovely,”

The pair pushed off, starting their journey back home. Jenny was stunned, for she did not expect the response to be so…blunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I originally thought I'd be able to get this out in 2 chapters, now it looks like it will be 3.  
> I also wondered, as this is my way of showing Sister Bernadette's first proper breach of vows, do I turn this into a series and do the next series on Turnadette? I'm not sure I want to ruin a friendship based fic.  
> Let me know what you guys think
> 
> (I also have no idea why it's showing double notes D:)


	3. Chapter 3

Sister Bernadette had separated herself from Nurse Lee, making the return to Nonnatus House to continue her duty as second on call. She had decided to take East India Dock Road, along the Thames, back to the convent, allowing herself to become distracted by the bustling life that had begun their days.

As she cycled back, she made note of the men, labouring hard to load cargo onto trucks to be sent across all of London, sweat on their brows, forearms exposed to darken in the sun. A layman’s life seemed a hard life, and a pang of guilt hit the Nun deep in her stomach. She assumed people would be happy to give up their hard, working lives in exchange for the seemingly unchanging, silent life that she lived. She should feel so lucky to have it easy.

Her life was far from easy, however. Her life consisted of bringing new life into an ever changing world, completing daily offices four times a day and living by strict rules. Her vow of poverty meant she would never know luxury, she would never know what it was to wear modern clothing, or getting made up for events and she would never know what it was to have more than one bath in a week. Her vow of chastity meant she would never know a family to call her own, aside from her Sisters and she would never know what it meant to love, and to be loved, by a man. And her vow of obedience meant she was to do what was required of her, by God or her superiors. She would never have her own free will. This is where the guilt hit her hard, she, by accepting Nurse Lee’s proposal, would be breaking two of her vows, and possibly the third if the midwives were to delve into her more personal feelings.

Returning to Nonnatus House, Sister Bernadette returned her bicycle to its home, removed her bag and made her way up the stairs where she decided she would spend a moment in the chapel to recollect her thoughts, centre her emotions and send a prayer to Him for forgiveness.

* * *

Bursting through the doors to Nonnatus House, Jenny ran the corridors in search of her colleagues, hoping that they hadn’t been called out at this time of afternoon, or had returned from their own daily rounds. Running past the bedrooms, she found Trixie easily enough; the blonde nurse sat on her bed, magazine and a small glass of gin in hand.

The appearance of Nurse Lee startled the blonde. She took note of the brunette’s appearance, still dressed in her light-blue cotton dress, maroon cap and cardigan still donned and her midwifery bag still in hand. “Has something happened?” Trixie asked, sitting up in a hurry, discarding her magazine on the bed and placing her glass on her nightstand, fully ready to jump into action should her colleague say the word.

“Oh, thank goodness you are here!” Jenny exclaimed, panting as she slowly regained her breath from the mad dash through the convent. “I asked Sister Bernadette to join us one evening!”

Nurse Franklin’s jaw dropped. “And…?” she drew out the word, eager to hear the answer.

Jenny dropped her bag next to Trixie’s door to join her friend on her bed. “She said yes!” The brunette was too excited and reached to the nightstand to pick up the glass of gin, downing it in one swift movement. She ignored the look of shock on her friend’s face, needing the quick burn of liquor to calm her. “Okay, she didn’t say yes, she said _that would be lovely_.”

Trixie couldn’t contain her excitement, letting out a squeal of enthusiasm and tapping her feet rapidly on the floor. “Well, Nurse Lee, you took one for the team!”

“Are Cynthia and Chummy back?”

“Chummy retired to her room for rest, she had been up since Lord knows what time this morning, and I believe Cynthia should be back from her rounds soon, assuming all has gone well,” Trixie explained.

“Right, well, I best clean my instruments before I forget,” Jenny explained, having calmed a little since sharing the news with her friend, her excitement seemingly being transferred to the blonde.

“Quite,” Nurse Franklin agreed. “I’ll see you later this evening?”

“After dinner, as per usual”

Jenny departed the room, each of the midwives with a smile spread on their features.

* * *

With the great silence having commenced, Sister Bernadette was required to return to her chambers, the rest of her evening filled with prayer. But this evening was different. Instead of making the left turn to her own room, she continued along the hallway, right to the end, before turning right into the nurses area.

The hushed chatter and quiet giggles seemed more like bombs going off around her, focusing on nothing but her colleagues. Nurse Lee had made the invite to join them one evening, and while Sister Bernadette had the courage, she was going to take them up on it now. The closer to Nurse Franklin’s room she became, the more the nerves wracked her body. She wondered if they expected her to turn up in her habit. She supposed they did, knowing well that she owned no possessions of her own. The nerves turned into self-consciousness as she realised she still wore her prayer veil from that evening’s Compline.

Standing in front of the door now, Sister Bernadette sent one last prayer up to the Almighty, reached her hand out and knocked lightly on the solid door.

The noises emanating from the room ceased and she wondered if the nurses would pretend she wasn’t there.

Cynthia was the one who opened the door, only opening it a crack as to peer out at the person who had knocked. Upon seeing Sister Bernadette in her full habit, Cynthia was very quick to apologise for disturbing the silence that had befallen the convent.

“I am not here to scold you, Nurse Miller,” the Nun told the tiny brunette. “I am here to take up Nurse Lee’s offer of joining you.” She had mustered as much courage as she could manage to finish her sentence, nervously playing with the ring on her right hand.

Cynthia beamed at the Nun, opening the door wide to allow her entrance. She was met by each of the nurses grinning at her and silently welcoming her to their shared evening. Sister Bernadette wordlessly smiled and greeted each woman with a nod before quickly glancing around Nurse Franklin’s room.

The room smelt of alcohol, cigarettes and the faintest scent of Nurse Franklin’s perfume. She had noticed the walls had images pinned to them, no doubt having been pulled from one of the many fashion magazines she noticed were stacked on the dresser. None of the nurses wore their uniforms, each wearing their own clothes, their personalities reflected in what they wore.

“Welcome Sister!” the blonde nurse exclaimed, beaming at her from her lying position on the ground. She wanted to comment on the fact that the Nun was breaching the Great Silence, but a stern look from Chummy made her hold her tongue.

Chummy understood that, while Sister Bernadette might be in their presence during a Holy time, she may feel guilt for turning her back on her vows, if only for an evening. Chummy decided to invite the Nun to sit with her, hoping that her quieter personality would hopefully put the young woman at ease.

“Can I get you a drink, Sister?” Jenny offered, seeing as all the other women nursed their own glasses, and sent a reassuring smile her way. “We promise we won’t tell,”

Sister Bernadette looked around the room, realising that if she were to decline, then what would the point of her being here. “Thank you,” she accepted, receiving a glass of whiskey from Trixie.

“Sorry, we my bar doesn’t stock ice,” Trixie told her, gesturing to the sideboard that held her vast amounts of liquor.

“To Sister Bernadette!” Chummy toasted, raising her glass as the rest of the room followed suit.

Sister Bernadette, however, didn’t raise her glass, which elicited raised eyebrows. She looked down, placing her glass on the floor next to her foot. Silently standing, well aware that all eyes were on her, she unclasped her wimple, setting it on the bedpost at the foot of Nurse Franklin’s bed, followed shortly by her cap. “Forgive me, but tonight I am Shelagh,”

Her cheeks burned red as she raised her glass to start the toast again, an unknown confidence rippling through her body as if God had acknowledged her prayer for strength.

Shelagh listened with a smile as the room echoed “To Shelagh!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this!
> 
> Thank you all for your comments on my last chapters.  
> I should hopefully have my "Letters to Sister Bernadette" finished later this week, the next chapter to my new fic "Love and War" up by the weekend and the final chapter to this completed early next week.
> 
> I hope you have enjoyed the read.
> 
> (If you don't already, you can follow me on tumblr - I'm aimee-jessica :D)


	4. Chapter 4

The air in Nurse Franklin’s room grew muggy, the warmth of the multitude of bodies in the room, coupled with the alcohol that was now being consumed at a rapid pace being the contributing factors. Smoke thickened the air as Trixie chain smoked from her cigarette tin.

Shelagh, as she was to be called tonight, felt like she belonged. The atmosphere in the small room was causing the Nun to positively radiate. She had accepted a couple of drinks that had been sent her way, and she had quite decided that she enjoyed the burn of liquor travelling into her belly. She looked glanced around the room at her colleagues, smiling as she witnessed them interact in an unprofessional environment. Shelagh still had some self-control, not willing herself to become _stupid_ , but she couldn’t help accepting a third, and then a fourth drink.

“If I’m being honest,” Shelagh giggled, all eyes on her. “I’ve never had alcohol in my life,”

Chummy and Trixie’s mouths fell open. “Never!?” the pair said in unison, Trixie finishing with a cheeky remark. “Am I to presume that you’ve never smoked a cigarette in your life also?”

The reply came in the form of a grin with a silent tap to the side of her nose. The blonde nurse understood, opening her cigarette tin and extending it to the woman in as a friendly offer, however the Nun only held her hand up as if to say ‘thank you, but no thank you’.

“That’s a wise choice,” Cynthia commended. “They smell positively dreadful!”

“Hear, hear,” Chummy agreed, raising a glass in the second toast of the evening.

“Oh,” Shelagh giggled, the nurse’s revelling in the sound, having never heard _a Nun giggle_. “I only meant, they aren’t my flavour,”

“Oh –,“ came the unified response from the non-smokers in the room.

Shelagh had a plan, albeit a daring plan. Standing from her perch, she collected her cap, followed by her veil, from Trixie’s bedpost, haphazardly throwing the items on. Strands of loose blonde hair were visible, popping out of the cap, but Shelagh didn’t care. “I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she told the room, disappearing as quickly and as quietly as someone tipsy could.

Sneaking down the corridors of Nonnatus House, the Nun made her way back to her chambers, praying that none of her Sister’s spotted her. The smell of whiskey would be obvious on her breath, and the tardiness of her cloth would give away her sin in the blink of an eye.

She nipped quickly into her room, heading straight for her nightstand. Opening the drawer as much as it would allow, she pushed her hand deep into the back, feeling for the familiar box. Her fingers, quickly finding their target, closed around the object, withdrew from the drawer and tucked under her habit.

She returned quickly, the nurses eyeing the woman up, asking the silent question of ‘ _what sort of mischief have you been up to?_ ’ Her response was to remove her cap and veil once more, returning the items to the spot they claimed only minutes earlier.

“Are you feeling alright, Sis-,” Cynthia stopped herself from finishing that sentence, quickly backtracking. “-Shelagh?”

“Quite,” she beamed. The alcohol overpowering any reasonable, and _normal_ , behaviours. Instead of taking seat next to Chummy, she plopped herself on the floor next to Trixie. “Could I borrow your lighter?” Shelagh pulled out the pack of Henley’s that she hid under the thick cloth of her habit.

“Oh, Shelagh,” Trixie exclaimed, watching in awe as the older woman pulled out a brown filtered tip from the pack and placing it between her lips. The lighter was accepted and flicked with ease, igniting the tobacco, and being drawn into the Nun’s lungs for the first time in a long time.

Shelagh held the smoke in her lungs, allowing it to burn deep as she revelled in the flavour and the feel of smoking. She kept a sole pack for emergency situations, or to reminisce on older times when she was a different woman. Exhaling what little smoke hadn’t been absorbed into her system, she sighed. “I used to steal cigarettes from my father when I was about fourteen,” she explained.

“A Nun? Stealing? How were you ever accepted into the order with that sort of heresy?” Trixie joked, lighting her own cigarette, offering the small ash tray.

“Trixie!” Jenny scolded, aware her friend was subconsciously pushing boundaries.

“No, it’s quite alright, Jenny.” She never used the nurse’s given names. “I accepted your invitation to be here, understanding that there are things that you say and do that would not be condoned in the religious life,” Shelagh took another drag from her cigarette, exhaling before continuing. “If I am being truthful, I am envious of the free lives that you all live,”

“Why did you choose to join the order then?” Cynthia asked, now sipping on a glass of water. The woman couldn’t hold her liquor, her petite frame disallowing her from doing so. “Could you not have joined when you were older? After you had experienced life?”

Shelagh hung her head, cheeks flushed with a combination of alcohol in her bloodstream, and sadness at the memory. “The Sisters were the only family I had left, and wouldn’t I be a disappointment if I did not carry on in their footsteps?”

“Oh, you poor bean! You know the Sister’s, yourself included, show nothing but love and compassion for those around them. Least of all, the forgive.”

Shelagh smiled at Chummy, giving her head a quick shake. “Right, if every nurse’s night turns out to become this depressing, I think I might stay a woman of God,”

The women erupted in laughter. The Nun was right. When people drank whilst sad, it was almost certainly going to be a night that ended in tears.

“Anyone up for another?” Trixie offered, brandishing the rapidly depleting bottle.

* * *

“My favourite times are when a new nurse comes to us,” Shelagh laughed, her senses out the window as the alcohol fully inhabited her body. “And Sister Monica Joan offers them cake!”

Trixie let out a loud chuckle, eliciting a quick ‘shh’ from Chummy. “The look on Jenny’s face was absolutely marvellous when Sister Julienne offered her cake on her first day!”

“Oh, that’s such a cheap shot, Trixie!” Jenny fired back, grinning at her friend. “Sister Monica Joan insisted I kept eating it!”

“I particularly enjoyed when Sister Evangelina assumed Sister Monica Joan was the one who had eaten the majority, but guilt was written all over your face!” Trixie was rolling on the ground at this point.

“So was the coconut!” Shelagh laughed.

Chummy in good humour made quick mention that she had never been offered cake and faked a pout. Cynthia came to her side, patting the tall woman’s head as though she were a pet. “There, there Chummy,” she giggled. She was sober, but could enjoy the memories. “I’m sure we can always ask Mrs. B to make you one, and for authenticity sake, we can get Sister Monica Joan to eat half the thing with you!”

The room erupted in laughter again.

“In all seriousness, ladies,” Trixie interrupted, forcing a pout to her face between the bouts of laughter she was having. “Can we get Shelagh dressed in something other than that,”

Shelagh mocked being offended, but she was elated to have the chance to wear _normal_ clothes for the first time in a decade. The fashions over the years had changed; gone were the utilitarian outfits of World War Two, and in came colour, and style.

The women in the room clapped excitedly at the chance to see who the Nun was.

Trixie was on her feet before anyone could say the word fashion, raiding her wardrobe for anything to put on her colleague. Cynthia was at her side, hoping her sober and more modest approach to life would keep the Nun in her comfort zone.

The nurse’s muttered between themselves, occasionally pointing at different items before turning their heads to look at Shelagh, attempting to visualise the woman in the clothing before they were revealed to her. Jenny and Chummy soon joined the pair, giving their input into the outfit as well.

“Alright,” Jenny said, turning her back on the wardrobe with a scarf in hand. “Do you trust us?”

Shelagh nodded in response as she watched Chummy take the scarf and approach her. She gulped, a tad nervous at the exchange and the advance. “What are you doing?”

“Relax,” Chummy insisted, bringing her hands to the Nun’s face and gently removing her glasses before raising the scarf to eyes to act as a blindfold. “You trust us,” Chummy confirmed. The shorter woman quietly quipped back about the scarf being unnecessary when she was already blind without her glasses.

Shelagh felt completely exposed as the nurses began to strip the Nun of her habit. There was definite shame in exposing flesh to a man, but was it still wrong in front of women for dressing? She couldn’t care less as she left the women to their own devices.

“I’m sorry sweetie,” Trixie whispered as the Nun was stripped to the bare minimum. “If we are doing this, we are doing all of this,”

Shelagh knew the women was referring to her plain, old undergarments. There was no way she could pull of the blonde’s fashionable clothing wearing these and so the nurses started to dress her up.

Being undressed from familiarity and redressed in someone else’s wardrobe whilst blindfolded was definitely an experience and she quickly gestured for another drink to get her through the reveal.

“Are you ready?” Jenny asked, excitement evident in her voice.

She wasn’t sure she was.

“If you aren’t ready, we can change you back,” Cynthia offered, not wanting the woman to feel overwhelmed.

“Quite,” Chummy agreed.

New glass in hand, she shot back the alcohol, being too under the influence to even register its burn. Holding the glass out, she waited for it to be taken from her hands before reaching for the scarf, untying it slowly and pulling it from her eyes.

Shelagh beamed. Although her glasses were off, she could make out the colours and the shape the clothing gave her body, reflected in the mirror that was affixed to the wall. She graciously accepted her glasses from Chummy, allowing detail to be seen.

They had dressed her in a light-blue, spotted poodle skirt (without the poodle); the hem cutting low on her legs. If Trixie were to wear this, the hem would more than likely sit just below the knee, but due to Shelagh’s small height, it gave a more modest feel. They had paired it with a cream, knit top with a turtle-neck. And to top it off, they hand clinched her waist with a darker blue belt.

With her reflection staring back at her so openly, tears welled in her eyes, a mistimed blink causing them to spill down her cheeks. She didn’t recognise the woman staring back at her, but something in her soul desired for her to find her and capture her life. She sent a silent prayer to the Man above, apologising for her wrong doings this night, but thanking him for the love that her _friends_ had shown her.

With her tears falling harder now, the nurses huddled around her, hugging her tight as the friends they now were.

Shelagh laughed quietly as she continued to sob. “Thank you for tonight.”

Their response?

They hugged her tighter.

-end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with this fic and for all your wonderful feedback! I love you all <3
> 
> I hope y'all enjoyed it! 
> 
> I didn't really see a first night with the nurses being a 'go-out-dancing' type of night. I think there would have been that respect for her position in the order, regardless of if she was breaking her vows or not. A quiet night in with the girls helping her to find herself is what it ended up being.
> 
> Shameless plug - I have started another fic which will be dedicating most of my time (feel free to check it out - Love and War - set during WWII - Turnadette)

**Author's Note:**

> So I've just recently become obsessed with CtM. I haven't written fanfic in YEARS, so here I am, back on AO3.  
> I've managed to binge 7 seasons in just over a week, however, I kind of miss the times during seasons 1 and 2.   
> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of the little plan that I am about to hatch.   
> Reviews are appreciated <3


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